


How 'Bout a Dance

by CuteMurderess



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bonnie and Clyde the musical au, F/M, Gun Violence, I'll put warnings at the beginning of each chapter, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, abuse in prison, look at me back at it again with the shitty tagging, mmm that early 1900s homophobia, oh...when you realize just what you're getting into whoops oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-10-30 14:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10878672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteMurderess/pseuds/CuteMurderess
Summary: Jeremy Heere has always wanted to become a famous actor. Michael Mell has always wanted to become a famous outlaw. What'll happen when they meet and sparks fly?ABANDONED





	1. Picture Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hesitantpluto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesitantpluto/gifts).



> Hello there!!! So this is my first contribution to the BMC fandom, and honestly I wouldn't be doing this story if it weren't for dead_girl_walkiing!!! You guys should definitely check her work out it's amazing!!! 10/10 recommend!!!
> 
> Each chapter has lyrics from a song or a few from the Bonnie and Clyde musical inserted into it, and so if you'd like to listen along the song for this chapter is Picture Show
> 
> Okay so this chapter there' going to be:
> 
> \- Blood  
> and  
> \- Gun violence
> 
> And that is at the very beginning of the story, but it's not graphic, so yay!!!
> 
> Okay well,on with the show, I hope that you guys enjoy!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Bonnie and Clyde musical or the Be More Chill musical

_May 23, 1934._ Already hot, although it was only around nine in the morning. You could hear the birds singing their tunes, the shuffling of an animal here and there, the softest rustling of leaves when the rare breeze came by. A peaceful morning. The police officer, lying low in the bushes, couldn’t quite appreciate the beauty of the day. It seemed surreal, what he was there for. Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell. Thieves, robbers, homosexuals, murderers. Criminals that had escaped from their grasp countless times, over and over again, for the past 14 years. They wouldn’t escape this time, though. He and a posse of other officers would have them surrounded when they came through the road that they were on. There wasn’t a chance that they could fail. At least, he hoped not.

        The peace of the day was broken by the sound of a car coming from down the road. It was a Ford that had been reported stolen, stolen by Heere and Mell. The air thickened with anticipation as the car came nearer. Closer, closer, and closer it came. Close enough to see that Mell was behind the wheel, and that Heere sat beside him. Then, it was like the world had slowed to a halt, and before he knew what was happening, chaos. Yelled words, a gunshot, the shattering of glass. A bloodcurdling scream from inside the car. The bang, _bang_ , _BANGING_ of gunshots, over and over with no rest, for what felt like hours afterwards. Smoke everywhere, obscuring their target from vision. Then… nothing.

        As the smoke cleared, it became visible to him that the Ford was now stuck in a ditch, about 50 yards away from where they were. He and the other lawmen slowly approached the vehicle, surrounding it. Somebody, he couldn’t see who, went forward and opened the passenger side door. There, leaning against each other, were the dead, bloodied bodies of Mell and Heere. The officer felt as if he were in a dream. They had done it. They were finally rid of them.

        That night he woke up with a jolt. A scream had woken him. A haunting, heartbroken, terrified scream. His wife lay asleep, peaceful beside him. It was nothing, just a dream. Right before he drifted off to sleep again, the scream still echoing in his mind, he could have sworn that it was screaming out a name. Maybe, something with an M. He fell asleep, and all thoughts of the scream left him for good.

~~~~~~~~~~

14 YEARS EARLIER - 1920

        Jeremy sat high up in the tree, looking up at the blue sky, and the passing puffy, white clouds. He sat there, lost inside his head, silently mouthing along to the picture show playing in his head. His favorite picture show, one with Clarence Bow in it. God, how he wanted to be like Clarence. Wanted to be in picture shows like him, in magazines, people knowing his name, wanting his autograph. Always dressed in the best clothing, always dazzling others away when on the dance floor. Drinking champagne, flirting throughout the night. _It must be amazing to be called the ‘it boy’,_ Jeremy thought, sighing. Jeremy was gonna be up there on the screen one day, he swore it.   
        From below there came the calls of, "Jeremy? Jeremy where are you? Jer-Jeremy you get out of that tree this instant!" Jeremy scowled, his previous mood dissipating into the air. The scowl stayed on his face as he made his way down to his father. “Jeremiah Heere! It’s your mother’s funeral today.”

        “No! No, it’s not!” Jeremy exclaimed, crossing his arms at his chest, scowl deepening.

        “Now, Jeremy-,” Jeremy cut him off.

        “I don’t wanna go in there!”

        “Baby.”

        “Leave me alone,” Jeremy said as he stomped his foot, scowl faltering slightly on his face.

        “Come on, baby,” his father gently said as he led Jeremy into the church where the funeral service was being held.

        “Emma Heere was a beloved wife to Charles and devoted mother to sweet Jeremiah, who was baptized here just a few months ago, on his tenth birthday. Now, let us bow our heads in prayer. The soul of…” The voice of the preacher faded away from Jeremy as he became lost in his head once again.

_I want to be him. I want to be dressed in style like Clarence. I can see it. I wonder, can anybody else see it, too? Can they see me being the main attraction at the picture show, just like Clarence Bow? Just like Clarence…_

~~~~~~~~~~

_Bang! Crash!_ A gun firing and glass shattering. The laughter of a young boy. The sound of running across hard, brown earth. A young boy appears from the side of a small shack.

        “Take that, officer! Ain’t nobody stand a chance against Michael Mell!” The boy, Michael, exclaimed as he stood there, legs apart, a serious look on his face, a rifle in one hand. He crouched down onto one knee, brought the gun up, aimed, and fired. _Bang!_ It hits a tree. “And you take that!”

        He cocks the gun for another shot, and takes aim at a chicken. Under his breath, he whispers to himself, “Michael Mell, the famous outlaw, who’s been on the lam for weeks now, finally confronts the fuzz that’ve been on his tail! He’s gone and taken two out already! Why he’s the newest Billy the Kid! Nobody’ll ever outdraw him! And would you look at that, he’s handsome too!” He pulls the trigger, _bang!_ A squawk comes from across the yard.

        He stands from his crouched position, a smirk making its way onto his face. “Ha, look at that Billy, I’m gonna be just like you!” He pretends to shoot people, “Bang, bang! You’re dead! And you’re dead! There ain’t nothin’ I can’t do with a gun!”

        “Michael Mell!” his mother yells angrily while coming up to him, holding the dead chicken by its legs. She stops in front of him, holding the chicken up. “Look at what you’ve done! I hope that you know how to lay eggs!”

        “And I hope that you know how to fry chicken!”

        His mother takes the rifle from him. “Gimme that and go help your pa with the wagon.” Michael’s father goes by them, a wheelbarrow filled with their things. Michael turns to his father, a pleading look in his eyes.

        “I don’t wanna leave pa! Why can’t we stay here?”

        “I don’t own the land. And it ain’t worth it for them to have me work it no more,” his father sighs. “Besides, you’re gonna like West Dallas, I know it. Now come help me with the wagon like your ma said to.”

~~~~~~~~~~

1921

        “This is the Devil’s back porch,” Jeremy complains as he holds his suitcase, squinting his eyes because of the glaring sun.

        “You watch that mouth of yours, Jeremy,” his father tells him as they make their way onto the front porch of a house. He wipes some sweat off of his forehead.

        “I didn’t give it that name. It’s what they call West Dallas. Why couldn’t we just stay in Rowena?”

        “It’s getting too expensive to stay there, and I know that I’ve told you this already. I don’t want you asking again.”

        “Yeah, but why _here_?”

        “Because Grandma Mary has been nice enough to take us in. Now behave.”

\---

        Jeremy looked back at the house, making sure that nobody saw him as he retreated into a corner of the backyard covered in trees. He sighed in relief, seeing that he was in the clear, sitting down on a small stump. He put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a match box and cigarette. He stares into the air dreamily.

        “I’m gonna be ready when I get to be like you, Clarence. I’m gonna be ridin’ horses and fancy cars. Gonna be goin steady with somebody that owns a jazz bar. Oh, I can’t wait!”

        “Jeremy! Where are you?” He hears as he’s about to light the match.

        “Ugh!” He exclaims as he throws his head back.

~~~~~~~~~~

        “Come on, keep movin’,” the cop says, pulling a scowling Michael along in one hand, a bike in the other.

        “Deputy, please don’t take him!” his mother begs.

        “He was just borrowin’ the bicycle,” his father tries to explain as the cop turns towards them.

        “From a store?” the cop asks, voice harsh.

        “Deputy, please-” he cut her off.

        “This is the third time your boy has a run-in with the law. First time you said it wasn’t him. He was here with you. Against my better judgement, I took your word. Second time, when he was identified by a witness…” Michael blocked out his voice as the cop continued.

_I’m gonna make a whole lot of money when I’m older,_ he thought. _I’m not gonna be countin’ cents like ma and pa. I’m gonna wear Sunday clothes on Tuesday, someday. And nobody’s gonna stand in my way._ He was jerked out of his thoughts by his mother’s panicked voice.

        “He’s only twelve. You can’t put him in jail.”

        “I can throw him in juvenile detention.”

        “That’d be a step up from the tent we’re livin’ in,” Michael butts in as the cop begins to lead him away again, his parents following.

~~~~~~~~~~

1925

        “Jeremy, I don’t know, or understand, whatever the hell it is that you have with that. With that _boy_! But you’re too young for it!” Jeremy’s father yelled at him.

        “I’m fifteen, papa! And me and Roy aren’t anything but good friends!” Jeremy yelled right back, face red.

        “Don’t try and play me for a sap, Jeremy! I know that it ain’t friendship that you got goin on with Roy! And whatever the hell this is ain’t gonna get you up outta this bog!”

        “He promised that we’d move to California,” Jeremy said shakily, eyes becoming slightly wet.

        “And that’s supposed to make me think that the two of you are just friends?” he snapped back, looking away from Jeremy.

        Jeremy stopped breathing as he began to shake. The tears that had been slowly filling his eyes began to make their way down his face as he began to let out large, heaving sobs. His father turned back to him, eyes wide, watching for a few moments as Jeremy sobbed and gasped for air.

        “Jeremy,” his father said as softly as he quickly made his way over to him, pulling him into his arms. “Shh, Jeremy. Shh it’ll be alright. It’ll be alright, I promise. Just calm down now, Jeremy. That’s it. Let’s calm down now,” Charles said as he rubbed Jeremy’s back.

        “But-but yo-u know and you ha-hate me now and-” Jeremy forced out between sobs.

        “No, shh. I don’t hate you, Jeremy. I could never hate you. You’re my son, and I’m not ever gonna hate you for something like that,” he continued on as Jeremy’s crying softened. “But, Jeremy, do you really think that he could do that? Take you to California somehow?”

        “He promised,” Jeremy quietly said into his father’s shirt. “I even got me a publicity photo.”

        “Really now? Can I see ‘em?”

        Jeremy quickly walked over to the kitchen table, grabbing a photo off of it, and then made his way back.

        “These are real nice, Jeremy,” Charles said as he looked at them. “Now go clean up, yeah,” he said, giving Jeremy a smile. Jeremy smiled back, nodding.

        Jeremy looked at the photo as he made his way upstairs. _I wonder_ , he thought, _if it’s really true that the stars in the movies get to keep the clothes they wear in them. And $30 a week! Jesus! I wanna be dressed in style like Clarence, I wanna be like him…_

~~~~~~~~~~

1930

        “Jake Dillinger Mell. Michael Mell. You have been found guilty on one count of burglary and two counts of auto theft. You are both hereby sentenced to two years at the McLennan County Jail.” The judges verdict echoes through Michael’s head as he sits in the cell, waiting for the cops to take him in for his mug shots.

_God damn it_ , he thinks. _Jail for two years, ain’t this just my lucky day. Well it won’t matter, I’m gonna break out of here anyways. Then I’m gonna be the guy that kids look up to._ He smirks. _They’re gonna cut their hair the way I cut mine. Al Capone was just like me when he started. He was nothing, and now he’s a somethin’, and I’m gonna make it big just like he did. He’s my hero, and I’m gonna be just like him._

        Two cops come into his cell, grabbing hold of him, and escorting him to get his mug shot done. Michael looked at them as he stood there for his photos. _Just you all watch me, I’m gonna be somethin’ big._

_~~~~~~~~~~_

        Jeremy leans against the counter, lost in thought. _It must be great to be called the ‘it boy’. I mean, that isn’t what they’re calling me, but one day I bet they will. Dressed in style, seen and known all over. I can see me being the main attraction at the picture show. God, I can’t wait, it’ll be so exciting!_

        Jeremy is pulled out of his thoughts by a man’s whisper. “Hey sweet-cheeks, is it true that for the right price a fella can get a little somethin’ not on the menu?”

        Jeremy smirks, leaning in closer to the man, quietly saying, “For the right price a fella can get almost anything these days.”

        “Do you take an IOU?” Jeremy scowls at the man as he begins to wipe down the counter.

        “Go to hell.” The bell in the diner’s door rings as somebody walks in.

        “Hiya, Jeremy.”

        “Hey, Rich,” he says, smiling. “Apple pie and coffee?”

        “As always, Jeremy. Thank you.” Jeremy begins to cut a slice of pie as Rich speaks again. “Hey listen, a friend of mine’s throwing a party Saturday night. I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d like to come?”

        “Sure. Are they gonna have a piano?” Jeremy asks him as he sets the pie and coffee down in front of Rich. A telephone in a corner of the diner rings.

        “Pretty sure there’s gonna be a whole band.”

“Hey, Rich. Sheriff’s on the phone.”

        Rich calls out over his shoulder, “Got it, Charlie, be there in a second!” He turns back to Jeremy. “I’ll pick you up Saturday at seven,” he winks at Jeremy as he gets up and makes his way towards the phone. Jeremy lets out a small huff in amusement, a small smile on his face.

        “So about that-”

        “Oh hush it you!”


	2. This World Will Remember Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JFGDGBJSBCKBHCKHBEW I AM SO SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE BUT!!!!!!!!!! HERE IT IS!!!!!!!!!! A BIG THUMBS UP AND THANK TO MY FRIEND PIP FOR PROOFREADING THIS CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!! AND A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO ALL THOSE WHO COMMENTED I CHERISH EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!!!!!!! I HOPE THAT YOU GUYS ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> This chapter covers the songs: This World Will Remember Me and You're Going Back to Jail
> 
> No warnings for this chapter

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Jeremy groaned, looking at his smoking, broken down car. “Now how am I gonna get home you stupid piece of-” a voice cut him off.

“Hey, there! Is it engine trouble?”

Jeremy whirled around to look at the man that had seemed to come out of nowhere with wide eyes, speechless. The man was tall, a bit taller than he was actually, and he had dark, curly, un-styled hair. His skin was light brown and he had on plain clothes, and thick rimmed glasses. Jeremy swallowed as he felt his face flush, the man was- well, he was handsome, to say the least, very handsome. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something, to no avail.

The man smiled, “Cat got your tongue?”

Jeremy felt the blood rush to his face as he began to sweat a little. “I-I’m fine,” he squeaked out. He wiped his hands on his pants as he cleared his throat and repeated, “I’m, uh, I’m fine. It could- It could be anything with this-this old thing anyways. Engine trouble, oil trouble,” he sighed, both in relief at having gotten out the words and annoyance at the car, running his hands through his hair, “It beats me.”

The man looked back at the car, “Well, it looks like we have the same car. Goes through oil like a preacher through whiskey, doesn’t it?”

Jeremy gave a small laugh, “Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.”

“Hey, say if I can fix you up, could you maybe gimme a lift into West Dallas?” the man says, glancing over at Jeremy as he goes to pop open the hood of the car.

“You live in the Devil’s Back Porch?”

“Not for much longer if I get my way.”

“I don’t know anybody that’s ever moved out of West Dallas.”

“Well you do now,” the man says, smiling as he extends his hand. “Michael Mell.”

Jeremy smiled back as he took his hand, “Jeremy Heere.”

“You got a beautiful smile, I hope you know.”

Jeremy looks to the ground as he feels his face and neck grow hot, “Thank you,” he says quietly. There’s a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Jeremy watches Michael work on the car. “So,” Jeremy starts, “where you movin’ to?”

“Anywhere I want,” Michael replies, looking up at him. “Just like the legendary Billy the Kid.”

Jeremy crosses his arms. “Billy the Kid? As in the outlaw Billy the Kid?”

“Why yes, it so does happen to be that Billy the Kid.”

“Oh ? Wasn’t this Billy the Kid ambushed and killed by some sheriff?”

“He wasn’t ambushed. He died an old man in the arms of a young woman.”

“I’m pretty sure he was gunned down-”

“And I’m tellin’ you-”

“In some hotel room.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I have plans.”

“Everybody’s got plans.”

“Everybody’s got dreams. I got plans,” Michael says, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile. “The other men in this town, they all live and die and are forgotten. It doesn’t even scare ‘em, and I can’t wait to get away.

Jeremy listened intently to Michael as he spoke, captivated. “Can’t wait to get away from the drought, the homeless, and the hungry where they talk about foreclosures every hot and dusty day,” Michael says, hands moving as he does so. “I don’t intend to waste my life ‘round here, I got it all mapped out. If I can pull just three jobs a year, I’ll be rich, I’ll have wealth and be famous, everyone’ll know my name.”

Jeremy stopped Michael before he could continue, “Pull three jobs? What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” Michael says, smirking. “Just like Billy the Kid and Mister Capone every kid is gonna idolize Michael Mell. One thing that I can guarantee, Jeremy, this world is gonna remember me.”

“You really think that?” Jeremy says in disbelief.

“Well of course I do! And then there’s you-”

Jeremy interrupts him, surprise and confusion in his voice and face, “What about me?”

“Well,” Michael starts, “don’t you think that it’s time you lost that egg-stained apron and wore somethin’ made of satin from a fine Manhattan store. I can see you in a car with your own driver, headed for a penthouse that overlooks the shore. Your face should be up on the silver screen, you’ve got that ‘it boy’ look.”

A large, dazzling smile spread across Jeremy’s face. “I can’t believe you see that in me! I mean, I’ve always thought I’d be a star, and well- just-” Jeremy said, giggles making their way out of his mouth and stopping him from speaking.

“The both of us, we’re wasted ‘round here, we’re too good for this place. We weren’t born to live and die in Texas. So this is my plan, ain’t got no plan B. An’ like I said, I promise, this world is gonna remember me- and hopefully you will, too,” Michael says, a gleam in his eyes.

They stood there for a moment, captivated by each other, as if the world were standing still, until the sound of a police siren in the distance made the world move into action once again.

“Shit!” Michael exclaimed as he dived to hide behind the car.

Jeremy looked toward where the police siren had come from, and then to Michael. “Are those cops lookin’ for you?”

Michael chuckled, “Well, my brother and I did just break out of jail. So probably.” As Jeremy took a small step back in shock, Michael quickly rushed to reassure him, “Hey, I- I promise I ain’t lookin’ for trouble. You don’t have to worry about me ‘cause I’ve been in jail.”

“I know plenty of men who’ve been in jail.”

“How many you know busted out?”

“What were you in for?”

“Robbery, auto theft, a few other things. I like to keep busy.” Jeremy smiles and gives a small laugh as Michael finally gets the engine to start. “So, what do you say? Gimme a ride into West Dallas?”

“The police are lookin’ for you.”

“They ain’t gonna find me. By this time tomorrow I’ll be five hundred miles away. I just wanna see my folks before they go.”

Jeremy looks up at the sky for a moment, and then back to Michael, who has a hopeful look on his face. He smiles. “Yeah, hop on in.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna had decided to get their hair done, they’d thought they’d be gossiping amongst each other, not that they’d be listening to others argue. Well, it was something to gossip about later, at the least.

“Are you crazy- bustin’ out of jail!?” Christine exclaimed as she ran a hand through her hair.

“Now, baby-” Jake started.

“Don’t you “now baby” me, Jake! How in God’s name did you let Michael convince you into becoming a fugitive!?”

“Well, it was- it was my idea.”

Christine narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest. “Oh. It was your idea now, was it.”

“Yes,” Jake said with a nod, “Yes it was.”

“How could you go and do this? Here I am prayin’ my heart out they shorten your sentence.”

“Well, your prayers were answered. This made it real short.”

Christine threw her hands up in exasperation, just as everybody heard a siren from outside. Christine’s head snapped to look towards the sound, panic in her face as Jake hurriedly looked for a place to hide.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Christine said breathlessly, eyes wide.

“I’m leavin’,” Jenna says, getting up as she does so.

Jake whirls around to look at her, “You sit!” He turns to Brooke, “You get up!”

As Brooke gets up from sitting under the dryer, Jake grabs a smock from a hook on the wall, covering himself with it as he throws himself into the seat. “I need a magazine! And a purse!” he exclaims. Brooke places her purse in his lap as Brooke tosses him the magazine she’d been reading. “Everybody take it easy! I was never here!” and with that he opened the magazine and stuck his face in it, just before the door opened.

“Evenin’ ladies.”

“Evenin’ Sheriff. Evenin’ deputy.”

“I’m here about your husband, Jake Dillinger Mell,” says the Sheriff to Christine. “You heard from him?”

“Oh, not since he got himself arrested,” Christine said as she shook her head. “I don’t have room for a man like that in my life. You’ll find him sittin’ in McLennan County Jail.”

“No you won’t,” said the deputy.

Christine looked at him, “What?”

“Well,” the Sheriff started, “he should be sittin there but he ain’t.”

“Well what do you mean by that?”

“Your husband and his brother got it in their heads to escape.”

“I’m sorry, they what?” Christine says, placing her hand over her heart, feigning shock.

“I know this is a hard thing to process,” the Sheriff said as he reached into his pocket, “but if you see him or know anything of his whereabouts you call the Dallas County Sheriff’s office straight away, you hear?” He hands her his card.

“Of course,” she says as she takes it from him.

Jake jumps out of the seat after they leave, a large grin on his face. “Baby, you were fantastic! And you know how I love those actin’ skills o’ you-” Christine cut him off.

“I’m havin’ a heart attack. They aren’t gonna stop looking, Jake.”

“She’s right, they never do,” chimes in Chloe.

Then a, “That’s right,” from Brooke.

And finally a, “They’re gonna get ‘im,” from Jenna.

Jake gives them a dirty look before turning back to Christine. “They won’t find me if we go away someplace. Maybe New Mexico, or even New Jersey!”

“Well that sure sounds nice!” Chloe says as she examines her nails.

“Aw, isn’t that just romantic!” Brooke says as she watches them.

“They’re gonna get ‘im,” Jenna repeats as she boredly flips through a magazine.

“You’re always talkin’ about wantin’ to go to one of these places. We could do that! Have a fresh start!”

“This wouldn’t be going _to_ New Mexico or New Jersey or whatever place else! It’d be running _from_ West Dallas!”

Chloe sighs, “She’s got a point.”

Brooke nods along as he adds in, “Still, I hear New Mexico’s real nice, and New Jersey sure does sound interesting.”

“They’re gonna get you,” Jenna says, making eye contact with Jake as she does so.

“You wanna be like your brother? Always runnin’ from the law? Always lookin’ over your shoulder? I love you, honey. I love you more than life itself but we can’t run away and start fresh like that. Cause that’s all that is, runnin’ away.” Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna chime in their agreement from the side. “We start fresh when you are free in the eyes of the law and saved in the eyes of God.”

“Amen,” says Chloe.

“Praise the Lord,” adds in Brooke.

“Thank you Jesus,” says Jenna.

“We can’t spend our whole lives hidin’, Jake. That ain’t no way to live. It’s time to wipe the slate clean and ask the good Lord to forgive.”

“Amen.”

“Praise the Lord.”

“Thank you Jesus, twice.”

“You gotta serve your sentence without fail, so Jake, you’re goin’ back to jail,” Christine says, a tone of finality to her voice.

“What the hell are you talkin’ ab-” Jake starts in shock before he’s cut off.

“We won’t be scared to turn the corner, or to open our front door. When you’re on the side of justice you ain’t nervous of the law. Now, pull yourself together Jake and stop lookin’ so pale, I mean what I said and I’ll say it again. Jake, you’re going back to jail.”

“Baby, baby please look at me you don’t know what it’s like in the-”

“Look honey, I know it’s hard to share a cell, especially when you ain’t got nothin’ to look at except prisoners who smell. But when you’re done and you’ve served your time we’ll still be young and in our prime.”

“I haven’t been free more than what seems a minute, and I ain’t had time to change my shirt. I’ve been dreamin’ of a hot meal, with you as my dessert,” Jake says as a flirtatious smile makes its way onto his face, before grabbing Christine and pulling her in close. “Bring your face close to mine and just let me inhale.”

Christine rolls her eyes and pushes him away. “Jake you are going back to jail.”

“But baby-”

“We’ll call the Sheriff and tell him you’re turning yourself in right after church tomorrow.”

“Christine-”

“It’s gonna be just as hard on me, honey. Jenna, you know what it’s like havin’ a husband in jail. Tell him how hard it is not havin’ Dustin around.”

“Are you kiddin’?” Jenna says with a small scoff. “It’s a treat to get my nails done and have time to be with and gossip with my friends.”

“Jenna,” Christine says.

“Sure beats washin’ out his long-johns, it’s a pleasure not to cook.”

Christine tries to cut her off, “Okay, that’s enough.”

“Thank God those prison walls are much too tall to scale, my darlin’s nice and safe in jail.”

“I don’t want her comin’ round here no more,” Jake tells Christine, nervously looking between her and Jenna.

“Look, alright, Chloe’s husband’s been in jail two years and she’s miserable without her man.”

“Uh-uh!” Chloe excalims. “I mean, at first I really missed him, I thought I’d waste away. Then I met this girl from Tucson and she owns a Chevrolet,” she says, looking over at Brooke and winking.

“Okay, that’s enough,” says Christine as she realizes her mistake.

“She has a lot of things that my husband lacks. Like teeth and hair and cash to be exact. I’ve now got lots of habits I can’t curtail, I gotta keep him locked in jail.”

“Christine-” Jake begins with a small whine.

Christine cuts him off as she grabs his face and makes him look at her. “Listen, Jake. I’m not like them, okay? I will wait ‘til kingdom come for you, and I want the world to see I ain’t married to some bum. It will be hard for us but we’ll come through, I promise honey.”

“I can’t believe you’re askin’ me to do this.”

“One thing’s for certain, our love won’t go stale,” Christine says, right before she pulls him into a heated kiss. From beside them Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna whoop and holler.

Jake pulls away, “Christine I ain’t goin’ back.”

“Yes, Jake, you are going back.”

“But baby, please!”

“Jake, we are not arguin’ about this anymore. You’re goin’ back, and that’s final!”

“Have fun goin’ back to jail Jake,” the girls cheer and tease from the side. They were all in silent agreement, this was _much_ better than any gossip they could have told each other.


	3. How 'Bout a Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry I'm absolutely terrible at not procrastinating I promise that I love this story I really do please forgive me. But anyways!!! It's here!!! Chapter 3!!! At last!!! Aaahhh!!! I hope that you guys enjoy!!!
> 
> This chapter covers the song: How 'Bout a Dance
> 
> There are no warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the Bonnie and Clyde musical or the Be More Chill musical

Jeremy sat on the hood of his car, admiring the sunset as he listened to Michaels voice, a small smile on his face. 

“-And so I figure that the first thing to do is hit someplace with a payroll. Places like gas stations, grocery stores - can’t do anythin’ without any cash. Once I’m through with that, I hightail it to another state. Maybe one on the Northeast. Cops can’t cross state lines, and they’re not gonna be lookin’ for me in places like Ohio or New York. After that, I’m a free man. I can do whatever I want.” Michael looked at Jeremy. “And you know what?”

Jeremy continued to admire the sunset, “What?”

“You’re gonna come with me,” Michael says, heat flooding his ears as he suddenly became shy.

Jeremy turned to look at him, lips twitching as he fought a large grin from blooming onto his face, “Oh really? What makes you so sure of that?”

“Your smile- but I mean- you don’t- I just, um, you don’t-” Michael ran his hand through his hair, looking down at the ground, “you don’t really have to come with me if you don’t want-” Jeremy’s small laugh cut him off.

“I think that I’d love to go with you.” Michael smiled as he locked eyes with Jeremy. They stayed that way for what almost seemed like an eternity, their bodies framed by the last rays of sun as it slid down and away behind the horizon, the crickets chirping their song, and the fireflies beginning their dance. Michael reached his hand out to Jeremy’s face, tucking some stray hair behind ear. 

Jeremy finally broke eye contact, softly saying, “Well, I should probably get home. And you want to see your folks-”

Michael cuts him off, voice just as soft, “Do you think that maybe that could wait, just a little longer? I think I’d like to learn a little more about you. If-if you want that is. If you’d let me.”

Jeremy’s eyes and smile were soft as he looked at him. “Okay.”

“Is there any dream career that you’re chasin’ after? Anywhere that you wanna go? Anything that you wanna do?”

“Ever since I can remember I’ve wanted to be an actor, and um, well, a singer too.”

“You wanna be a singer? Could I hear something?”

Jeremy felt the heat of embarrassment begin to creep up his neck. He ran his hand through his hair. “Well um, I mean- I’m just- I’m really not all that good at singing-”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Can I hear somethin’? Please?”

Jeremy bit his lip, unsure, but he took one look at the earnest look on Michael’s face, caved, and softly started to sing.

_ “How ‘bout a dance, what do you say, I’ve got some moves that I’d love to show ya.”  _ Jeremy fidgeted, still a little unsure, but continued to sing when he saw the happiness in Michael’s face.  _ “Let’s find a spot and dance the night away.” _

Jeremy stopped singing as Michael hopped off the hood of the car, “Don’t stop,” he said as he grabbed Jeremy’s hands, slowly backing away from the car. Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy, starting to slowly sway.

_ “How ‘bout a dance, it’s always fun. Come over here, let me get to know ya. Can’t beat a band to lift your spirits hon,”  _ Jeremy’s voice grew stronger as he and Michael swayed together.  _ “And you look so handsome. How ‘bout a dance, let’s make a start. Music like this can really throw ya, you’ll lose the blues and you may lose your heart.” _

“There we go!” Michael declared, a smile as bright as the sun etched onto his face as he and Jeremy danced together. Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh as he continued to sing. 

_ “Tonight is the night I’ve been waiting for, even the moon looks just right. I’m sure the crowd will make room on the floor, when they see you look like you do so, how ‘bout a dance. Let’s make a start, music like this hon, can really throw ya, you’ll lose the blues, and you may lose your heart.”  _ Jeremy and Michael’s dancing came back to a slow sway as Jeremy’s voice grew softer once again, their foreheads softly coming to rest against the others as Jeremy finished the song.  _ “You’ll lose the blues, and you may lose your heart.” _

“That was beautiful,” Michael whispered, looking at Jeremy as if he’d hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you,” Jeremy whispered back, looking up at Michael through his eyelashes. Michaels breath caught in his throat as he looked at him. God, he had never seen anybody so beautiful. Jeremy’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.”Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” Jeremy teased. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, I’m just thinking about how you’re so beautiful that the moon’s jealous of you.”

“Oh hush it, you,” Jeremy giggled, a joyful twinkle in his eyes. Michael just smiled. They stood there, embracing each other for a few more moments, before getting in the car and leaving. They both quietly wished that they could stay in that moment forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeremy quietly opened the door to his house, stepping in and quickly looking around the living room before ushering Michael through the door. Jeremy flinched as the door creaked as he tries to shut it.

“Jeremy is that you?” his dad shouted from upstairs.

Jeremy grimaced as Michael gave him a panicked look, “Ah, shit,” he whispered, then, “Yeah, dad, it’s me!”

Mr. Heere began his way down the stairs, “Why on Earth are you so late gettin’ home Jer-” he cut himself off as he saw Michael. “Who are you?”

“Dad, this is Michael Mell, he’s one of my theatre friends cousins. He needs a place to stay for the night cause my friend doesn’t have room enough room in their apartment.”

“Evenin’, Mr. Heere, I’m sorry to be disturbin’ ya,” Michael said, looking bashful. 

“It’s alright,” he replied, still looking at Michael suspiciously. “What’re you in town for?”

Jeremy started as he felt Michael become rigid at his side, “He’s passin through on his way to Ohio to begin a printin’ job.”

“Oh, really? You’re very lucky to have a job, most of us men don’t have one these days.”

“Yes, sir. I’m real thankful for it.” Michael pauses as he sees a ukelele on the living room table. “Who plays the ukulele?” 

“My wife did, God rest her soul.”

“Amen. Could I-” he gestures to the ukulele.

“Go ahead.” 

Michael walks over and picks up the ukulele, quickly tuning it before playing a small melody. 

Mr. Heere gave Michael a small smile, “That sounded real nice. Where’d you learn how to play?’

“My grandpa taught me when our family was livin’ under the viaduct. He was trying to make sure I had somethin’ to occupy my mind and hands.”

“You lived in those camps?” Jeremy asked from where he’d just been standing and listening to the conversation.

“Pa was a sharecropper over in Henderson County when the land dried up. We left our farm, headed for Dallas and lived in a tent, under the Oak Cliff viaduct for near three years.”

“Well, Michael, you can sleep on the sofa. Jeremy can get you an extra sheet, but I’m sorry to tell you that we don’t have an extra blanket or pillow.”

“That’s alright, Mr. Heere. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

Mr. Heere nodded. “Jeremy, I expect you to be up shortly.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Almost immediately. Your partner is supposed to be home soon.” Mr. Heere turns away from them and walks back up the stairs.

Michael turned to Jeremy, brows furrowed as he took a step away from Jeremy, “Partner?”

“Michael-”

“Why didn’t you-”

“I  _ had  _ a partner. Went to jail about three years ago.”

“Is he still there?”

“No. He’s just not interested in bein’ a partner. Even before he went to jail, he didn’t really care too much. Guess I’m not worth his time. I’m sorry, though. I should’ve told you.” Jeremy curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his torso.

Michael’s gaze softened. “No, I understand why you wouldn’t tell me, now. He seems louzy, and he’s the one that ain’t worth your time. You’re better than he deserves.” Jeremy smiled.

“Well, I’ll get you that sheet-” he was cut off by a knock on the door.

“Are you expectin’ company?”

“No,” Jeremy replies, just as confused.

Michael walked over to the window, peeking through the curtains. A panicked look comes over his face. “Shit, it’s the law!”

“You can go out the back door, it’s through the kitchen over there!”

“Thank you!” Michael exclaims, turning to leave before turning once again to speak to Jeremy. “Meet me tomorrow mornin’. Eight o’clock. 145 Oak Grove over in Harrison. Whistle or throw somethin’ at the second floor window on the corner.” Jeremy quickly nods as he pushes at Michael to leave.

Jeremy turns to the door when he hears another knock, making sure to open it only after he hears the back door close shut. He opens the door to see Rich standing there.

“Rich? What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m following some leads on a prison break. Since I was in the neighborhood I figured I’d stop in to check on you and your dad.”

“Thanks, Rich. That’s real sweet of you. Me and my dad are okay. Would you like to come in? Have some water or tea or somethin’?”

“Sure, some water would be nice,” Rich’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at Jeremy, stepping through the door. He sits on the couch as Jeremy steps into the kitchen and quickly returns with a glass of water.

He looks around the room, “Jeez, the last time I was in here was when it was your what? Sixteenth birthday? Seventeenth?”

Jeremy’s nose slightly scrunches as he thinks about it, “It sure seems like it was absolutely forever ago, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I remember how we’d play cards and tag and all other sorts of games all the time. Hey, remember that time when we just about gave your dad and grandmama heart attacks cause we both hid under the porch and they couldn’t find us?”

Jeremy laughed, “Yeah! We were eatin’ buttermilk pie and playin’ cards.”

Rich laughed along, “It sure was a simpler time back then, wasn’t it?”

Jeremy gave him a small smile, “It sure was.”

The clock against the wall chimed, catching their attention. Rich stood as he caught the time on the clock. “Well, I better get back home. Thank you for havin’ me at such a late hour.”

“It was no problem, Rich.”

“So remember,” Rich says as he walked out the door backwards, “I’m picking you up Saturday.”

“Rich-”

“And keep this door locked, alright?” he said as he got into his car.

“I’ll make sure of it, Rich,” Jeremy called out as he started his car and left. He closed the door after watching him drive out of sight down the street. As promised, he locked it before going upstairs to his bedroom. As he lay in bed, all he could think was,  _ oh God, what have I gotten myself into _ .


End file.
